The Old Willis Place by Mary Downing Hahn Page B

Lissa," I whispered. "Please like me, please be my friend."

Chapter 7
    At last, Lissa and MacDuff walked around the side of the house. I didn't move. I didn't speak. I sat on the lion bench, my skirt spread around me, my hands clasped in my lap, my back straight, and waited for them to see me. To be honest, I was scared. I had no idea what I looked like now. No mirrors, no one to ask but Georgie, who couldn't be trusted to give an honest answer. What if Lissa turned and ran at the sight of me?
    MacDuff saw me before Lissa did. He tugged at his leash and barked. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to flee to the safety of the woods, but I swallowed my fear and rose uneasily to my feet, as if I were a hostess greeting a guest.
    With some effort, Lissa held MacDuff back. "Diana? Is that you?"
    I smiled, pleased she didn't quite recognize me. I hoped I no longer looked like the monster who'd frightened her, "I washed," I said. "I changed my clothes. Like I said I would."
    She came closer. When we were face to face, she smiled, and MacDuff sniffed the hand I held out to him. "Good dog," I whispered.
    He tilted his head to the side and regarded me in a friendly way. His tail thumped once, a bit hesitantly.
    "You look so different," Lissa blurted out. "Yesterday I thought—" She stopped and blushed. "You read my diary, so I guess you know what I thought."
    "I didn't mean to scare you." I laughed, and after a second so did she. We were both nervous, edgy, unsure what to say or do.
    When Lissa managed to stop laughing, she said, "You looked like a wild girl, a savage."
    We laughed again, even harder. "Wait till you see my brother," I said through my giggles. "He won't take a bath, he won't let me wash or comb his hair, he won't even change his clothes."
    "Your parents let him get away with that?" Lissa sounded surprised. "Don't they—"
    "Oh, no. They—" I cut myself off. I couldn't tell Lissa everything. Maybe I shouldn't even have mentioned Georgie. "They don't care," I finished, but Lissa seemed to have lost interest in my parents.
    She reached out to touch my braid. "Your hair is beautiful, so long and thick and blond—almost white."
    "It took forever to comb out the tangles." I winced at the memory. "My scalp's still sore."
    We sat down on the lion bench together. MacDuff lay down with his chin on Lissa's clean white tennis shoes.
    "I don't have any shoes," I told Lissa, suddenly conscious of my bare feet.
    She looked surprised. "What do you do in the winter?"
    "My feet are really tough." I held up one foot so she could see the sole, as black and hard as if it were made of leather. "I don't need shoes."
    Lissa stretched out her feet. "These are new. Maybe I could give you my old ones." She put one foot next to mine. "We're about the same size."
    We smiled at each other. That's what friends did—shared with each other. My heart beat a little faster. Maybe Lissa liked me; maybe I could show her my favorite things—the spring that gushed out of a pile of mossy rocks and ferns, the heron's nest in a dead tree in the marsh, the foxes' den, the albino deer.
    Just as I was about to suggest a walk, she leaned toward me, the smile gone from her face.
    "Did you and your brother steal my bike and the other things?" she asked. "I won't be mad. I just want them back."
    Shame heated my face. Maybe Lissa didn't want to be my friend after all. Maybe she just wanted her bike and her book and her teddy bear.
    "We didn't steal your bike," I told her. "We borrowed it one night to take a ride, that's all, but Georgie crashed into a tree and wrecked it. We were scared to bring it back, so we hid it down in the woods."
    "It was brand-new," Lissa said. "Dad gave it to me for my birthday. He can't afford to buy another one."
    "I'm sorry." I twisted my braid, tugging till my sore scalp hurt.
    Lissa looked at me without smiling. "What about my book?" she asked. "And my bear?"
    "I'm reading Lassie to Georgie," I said. "He loves it. Can we keep